


Muddy (phan AU)

by iridescentmusings



Category: Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), dan and phil
Genre: AU, Phan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:39:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5986459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridescentmusings/pseuds/iridescentmusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So does this happen often, your dog covering random people with muddy water?”</p><p>“More often than I’d care to admit,” Phil replies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muddy (phan AU)

“Then maybe  _ this _ isn’t working!” Ellie screeches shrilly in response to one of his grievances. They’ve been going at this for about half an hour, the yelling back and forth and the general negativity. It’s draining for him, and he wants out.

 

“I’m taking Marius out,” Phil spits in response, effectively signaling the end of the argument with his girlfriend. He does this a lot now, and perhaps it’s avoidance of his problems but he really doesn’t care because it clears his head so that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to sit down rationally with her and sort things out. It has worked before, but as is shown by the frequency of their arguments, the peace never lasts. Perhaps they should have broken up by now, but he’s been with her for so long that all he wants is to go back to a time where they hadn’t fallen out of love with one another. “Marius!” he calls, his voice higher in pitch and full of false excitement. The combination causes a large black labradoodle to barrel into their living room, tongue lolling and breath already coming in excited pants. Marius doesn’t understand most of what’s going on with his owners, but knows that Phil calling him in this way signifies an imminent walk, which is all he cares about in that moment. Nothing could be more thrilling than the prospect of a run in the park, except perhaps the event itself.

 

“Down, Marius!” Ellie screams, black dog hairs already attaching themselves to her frilly white skirt as the dog tries to lick her face. Part of Phil feels bad for the discomfort his pet is causing her, but a larger part of him wants to leave the dog at it. She’s only being disgruntled, not being harmed in any way. Ellie has never liked Marius, but the animal came as a package deal with Phil and the security of a boyfriend with his own house and a stable job. Roughly, she pushes the large dog off her, his paws clattering on the hardwood flooring as he continues to leap around. Phil walks into the hallway and Marius follows behind him, playfully nipping at his ankles but not jumping up at him. Phil has trained his dog to stop doing that to him, but also knows that yelping every time he comes near her is the reason Ellie still receives the leaping treatment from the perpetually hyper animal. He’s tried to explain that to her time after time, but she still does it. 

 

“Leave it, Marius,” he orders, and Marius stops trying to play tug of war with his lead, sitting obediently as he waits for it to be clipped onto the collar around his neck. His long tongue is hanging out of his mouth again as he looks up at Phil, intelligent eyes glinting with happiness. Marius loves walks, and Phil always feels terrible whenever he has to take him to the vets, as that involves attaching the lead to take him out to the car, giving his dog a false feeling of anticipation as he thinks he’s getting a walk rather than an injection or yearly checkup. This time, however, he isn’t going to disappoint him. While he pulls on and zips up his shiny grey coat, he holds Marius in place by standing on the end of his lead with one foot. Finally, they’re able to get out of the house’s stiflingly tense atmosphere and into the chilly air of the outside world. He’d have gone straight out of the house without a coat most days, but the weather is predicted to bring snow and that isn’t really t-shirt weather. 

 

Marius has nearly tripped up a grand total of five innocent pedestrians by wrapping his lead around them and barked at approximately eight inanimate objects by the time Phil reaches the park. He loves it here, both of them do, but Phil especially enjoys the area in winter. The bare-limbed trees sway slightly in the whispers of a breeze as they walk by, Marius tugging insistently to be let off his lead and Phil responding with a reprimand of “Steady, Marius!” every so often. He’s learnt before now not to let Marius off until they’ve got to the park’s centre, as the dog is liable to run away in the wrong direction, leading to Phil spending a good hour hunting through the housing estate with a dog whistle and finishing with a plethora of apologies to the unimpressed home-owners that found a labradoodle digging a hole in their geranium patch. 

 

The walk to the park centre, lasting around twenty minutes from the moment he leaves his house, is calming to Phil. He nearly always starts with anger boiling in his thoughts, but the time alone with his dog helps considerably; focusing on stopping said dog from destroying anything in his path clears his mind somewhat, giving him the chance to relax and take a step back mentally. Phil knows by now that his relationship with Ellie isn’t healthy and is doubting that it ever was, all two and a half years of it. He was twenty-five, a time when he really wanted to settle down, and wonders if he made too much out of the slight spark that has now long died between them. 

 

Stopping by the side of the footpath, Phil firmly says “Sit,” and loops the fingers of his left hand through Marius’ collar as he unclips the lead. “Wait,” he tells the dog, taking a step back. Marius wiggles uncomfortably, raring to shoot off and socialise with the dozens of other dogs around the park but not going against his training. “Wait…” Phil repeats, letting his pet squirm for a few seconds more before continuing in an excited voice to accentuate his permission. “Okay!”

 

Marius races off at once, but not towards another dog. It takes a moment for him to notice, but to Phil’s horror, he sees that his dog is running straight towards a solitary man on the footpath, a tall stranger with hair similar to Phil’s but parted differently and brown, from what Phil can tell from a distance. A tall stranger with a bag in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. Phil’s heart drops to his stomach, because he knows exactly where this is going, and is too far away to prevent it, though he’s running over as if to try, vainly yelling “Marius!”. Almost in slow motion, Phil sees his dog leap at the man, who dodges, causing Marius to fall back onto all fours. The second time, he tries to dodge again but ends up with a set of muddy pawprints on his black and green jumper. Once Phil finally reaches the man and his own wayward pet, the man’s jeans are even muddier. The dog must have somehow rolled in a puddle en route to the stranger, as he is literally soaked in dirty water. He continues hurrying over, wondering as he does so how exactly Marius managed to get that wet in the time it took Phil to notice the direction he then headed in.

 

“I am  _ so  _ sorry!” Phil manages to get out in between his heavy breathing, his body protesting the unexpected exertion of running over. Just before he leans over to try and stop Marius, the dog knocks the coffee cup out of the man’s hand, escalating the situations generally terrible state just that little bit more. Coffee streams out of the upturned cup and onto the concrete, a small river of the liquid running off into the grass beside the path. Marius keeps bounding around the man, standing on the cup as he does so, the Starbucks logo adorned by a dirty brown pawprint. As soon as he manages to grab the collar of his troublesome dog, Phil clips the lead back on, rolling most of it up into his hand so that Marius is on a short leash. “Sit,” he orders him, quiet but firmly. Sensing that his owner is annoyed with him, Marius whimpers slightly and does as told. As he’s now right next to Phil, the dog’s wet curly hair soaks the left leg of his jeans. Groaning internally, Phil keeps quiet as he’s far less damp than the random man who has fallen victim to Marius’ antics.

 

“It’s okay,” the man replies, for some reason smiling sympathetically despite him being the one covered in mud, not Phil. Perhaps he can see just how flustered Phil is by the embarrassment Marius has caused; he himself doesn’t know why he isn’t snapping angrily at the black-haired man. He’s beautiful, though he isn’t sure why that’s what he’s choosing to focus on. “I’m just heading home anyway; I can get changed once I’m back.” He wasn’t, actually, but the white lie is prompted by his strange desire to calm the other man down. Besides, he’ll have to anyway now. 

 

Phil smiles back gratefully, glad that the situation hasn’t escalated because he’s the sort of person liable to feel like crying within seconds of someone raising their voice at him. “I’m Phil, by the way, and again- so so sorry about this.”

 

“I’m Dan,” he responds, somewhat confused as to how easily he’s falling into conversation with Phil. It feels natural, and for someone who struggles with social interactions on the smallest of scales, him not speed walking away from this situation before it even began should be a monumental achievement, let alone continuing to speak. 

 

“I think I have like a Costa gift card in my wallet,” Phil says, and at Dan’s confusion clarifies: “To replace your coffee. I know it’s not Starbucks but there’s a fiver or so left on there that you could use?”

 

“Sure,” Dan laughs awkwardly, rocking back on his feet. He can just feel the blush rising to his cheeks, ridiculously attracted as he is to Phil, a total stranger until all of three minutes ago. “So does this happen often, your dog covering random people with muddy water?”

 

“More often than I’d care to admit,” Phil replies. As he does so, he pulls his wallet from his jeans with quite some difficulty due to the tightness of the pocket. Opening it up, he begins an unfortunately fruitless search for the Costa gift card that he had been  _ sure  _ was in there. Missing also is the three £10 notes that had definitely been there yesterday as they’d been the change from the £50 note he’d ended up having to use when grocery shopping yesterday. The only logical conclusion being that Ellie took it -probably taking the gift card along with it-, annoyance directed at her resurfaces. “It appears that I’ve misplaced it,” he tells Dan rather than what he thinks is probably the truth of the matter, not wanting to air his dirty laundry for the other man to see. 

 

“That’s fine,” Dan is quick to placate Phil, who looks like he’s feeling increasingly worse about the situation. Marius whines, annoyed about having his lead clipped back on when he wants to be running around and terrorising more people in all of his muddy glory. “Your dog sounds pretty impatient,” he points out, unnecessarily gesturing to the black labradoodle as if Phil had another dog with him. Internally he overthinks the action, chastising himself for doing something so stupid. He can tell that it’ll be one of those moments that just randomly flashes back at unpleasant and inopportune times, his mind going ‘Hey, I bet you don’t want to remember that time you made an idiot out of yourself in front of a hot stranger.’

 

“Y-yeah he does, I guess,” Phil agrees, reluctant to leave for some reason unbeknown even to himself. “Listen, I am really so sorry about your clothes and coffee. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help clear up the mess Marius has made?” he trails off, looking at Dan hopefully. 

 

“I, I mean-” Dan responds, or at least he tries to, stumbling over his words quite spectacularly. “You could get me another coffee sometime?” He can’t quite believe that he’s asking this, surprised at himself for the sudden burst of self-confidence that allows him to. 

 

Phil knows that it should feel wrong for his heart to skip a beat at the words, at the thought of meeting up with this ‘Dan’ again. It doesn’t, however, as he convinces himself that it’ll just be a meeting of two potential friends. This will certainly be a tale to tell if they ever do form a friendship. “Sure, when do you want to?”

 

“Whenever you’re free- I always am,” Dan says, before realising just how sad that sounds and trying desperately to make himself seem like less of an utter loser. “I- I mean, when you- I mean, I’m sure I’ll find the time. I’m not alone all the time in my house I swear!”

 

Phil giggles at the flustered man before him. “Okay then. I only hope that little old me can somehow be factored into your tight schedule,” he replies. Marius tugs at the lead again, and Phil knows it isn’t fair to keep him stationary for any longer. “I’ll be off then, after you’ve given me your number, of course.”

 

“Okay, should I just type it into your contacts?” Dan queries, a question answered by Phil pulling out his phone and handing it over after unlocking it. He has to delete and start again with several digits because his hands are trembling with a mixture of cold and nerves. “Here you go- talk soon!” he blurts out, miraculously managing to not drop the phone as he gives it back. 

 

With that, Dan hurries off. Phil notes that he turns around and walks a different way, meaning that he was most definitely lying about already heading home. This brings a small smile to Phil’s face, the fact that Dan would pretend just to make Phil feel better. “Okay, let’s get you all tired out then, Mars!” he says, turning to his dog. Marius leaps at him and knocks him back into the grass; maybe keeping him still for so long while he is so hyped up wasn’t such a good move on Phil’s part. “Oi, get off me, you pest of a dog!”

 

Dan glances back just before turning a corner out of the park. Seeing the scene, albeit from a distance, is still enough to make him laugh out loud. With a gaggle of old people on benches shooting him disapproving glances in his wake -because who is allowed to laugh nowadays, anyway?- Dan heads home to the silence only an empty house can hold. 

 

Engrossed in the process of turning his key in the lock of his house’s front door, he jumps when a small hand tug s on the bottom of his jacket from behind him. Turning abruptly to see what it is, Dan takes in the sight of a small child, about six or seven, eyes wide eyed and body shaking all over. “Mister, you’ve got to help me!” the little girl implores, nervously tugging at the hem of her bright green t-shirt dress.

 

“Huh?” Dan replies intelligently.

 

“A man just dropped a bag in the river behind the houses. I was playing nearby,” she explains, gesturing in the direction of where said river is. He knows the one; it runs past his back fence. “And it’s moving! I think there’s something alive in there.” 

 

Dan drops his bags on his doorstep. “Show me where,” he tells her, and she dutifully runs off, him easily keeping up the pace she sets. Soon, as it isn’t far away, they reach the stretch of river exposed to the side of the road. Sure enough, there it is- a burlap sack splashing about in the water. It’s a quick job for someone with arms as long as his, plucking the sack out of the water. It’s heavy, though, far heavier than he was expecting, as he’d presumed it would perhaps be a kitten or two. Instead, when he pulls the knots loose on the string holding it closed and opens it up, there’s only one animal, and not of the feline variety. Inside is a spluttering little dog with waterlogged tan fur. As soon as it is done coughing up water, it leaps at Dan, shivering violently and trying to huddle into him (for warmth, he assumes). He’s baffled as to why somebody picked a cookie-cutter neighborhood of bungalows to try and drown their unwanted pet, or why they would try drowning this puppy in the first place. 

 

“Puppy!” the little girl squawks, making grabby hands at the dog which looks rather scared about this. 

 

“I don’t think the puppy is up to playing right now, sorry,” Dan tells her. She pouts and runs off in an apparent huff, and Dan is left with clothes that are now sopping wet as well as muddy, and an even more soaking wet dog. He hasn’t experienced the scent of wet dog until now, and he learns that it is far from pleasant. “Right, little guy,” he says as if the dog can understand. “We need to get you dried up and then I can figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with you.”

 

Looking down, he sees that the little animal has fallen asleep. He doesn’t have to be an animal expert to understand how weird it is for him to trust Dan so much so fast. Gently cradling the tiny dog in his arms, he walks back to his house, having to hold him one handed as he fishes his keys out of his pocket, drops them, and finally opens his door after scooping them back up from the ground. It has begun to rain, though Dan had been expecting snow until now due to the chilling quality of the air outside. A light smattering of drizzle coats him and the animal in his arms before he’s able to get inside. “Okay Guy,” Dan says, debating putting him down but deciding against it for the time being as he’s still sleeping. ‘Guy’ will have to do as a name for now, shorter than ‘Little Guy’ but still not a deliberate naming as he doesn’t think he should name him lest he become too attached. “I think I need to towel you down so you don’t catch a cold from all this water”

 

At this, the puppy wakes up, batting Dan’s face with his paw by way of greeting, accompanied by a whine. Dan walks over to his linen closet and pulls out a towel. It’s an old one, as it will inevitably be ruined in the process of getting Guy clean. He may be wrong, but as he towels down Guy, he thinks that the towel is probably one from when he was younger, and by younger he means a child. When he moved out to pursue his career in writing, his parents bundled together a bunch of things that they didn’t need in their house and boxed it up to save him the trouble of buying the essentials like crockery, cutlery and, yes, towels. Stopping his mental tangent in its tracks, Dan focuses on the process of drying the small dog. By the time said dog is towelled to the point that there isn’t a drop of water left on his fur, he reckons that about twenty minutes has passed; he’s probably been more thorough than is strictly needed but he doesn’t want to risk the puppy getting sick. 

 

He doesn’t know what to do with Guy while he gets changed out of his muddied Attack On Titan jumper and trademark skinny jeans and black t-shirt, so he just picks him up and brings him to his room at the end of the hall. Shutting the door behind him, he puts Guy down on his grey carpet, hoping against hope that he doesn’t decide that Dan’s room is the perfect toilet spot. Hastened by this thought, he grabs a pair of sweatpants and a baggy grey shirt, pairing the pyjamas with a christmas jumper because there’s nobody else in the house to judge him for wearing one in January and they’re warm. Anyone saying otherwise can fight him.

 

Quickly, he peels himself out of his sodden attire and pulls off his shoes which are actually miraculously dry considering that they’re his black canvas ones with zips in lieu of laces. He supposes that Marius and Guy haven’t trodden on his feet in the course of today, and the area by the river itself is frozen so isn’t as damp as it would be in the warmer months of the year. After stepping into his sweatpants, he remains shirtless for the few extra seconds it takes to lean down to pet Guy as he’s whining and patting at Dan’s bare feet with his tiny paws. “It’s okay, little guy,” Dan assures the dog, hoping that the tone of his voice if not any actual comprehension of his reassuring words will calm him. He’s always found people who talk to their pets as if they’ll understand a little foolish, but understands now that it’s as much for the person as the animal. He doesn’t know the first thing about comforting animals, as he was very little when he had a dog. His parents have since got another after he left home, but he doesn’t see Colin all that often.

 

He walks back into his living room, this time trusting Guy to scamper at his heels when he leaves his bedroom, as the dog doesn’t seem to want to be separated from him. Turning on his fire makes Dan realise just how dark it has grown outside in the perhaps thirty minutes since he rescued the dog from certain death. Now lit only by the natural light from his fireplace, his living room seems to adopt a homely air he hadn’t thought possible. He sits down in front of it, still holding the dog, and places him on the rug beside him, expecting him to either run off into the rest of the house or lie down next to where Dan himself sits. Instead, the puppy clambers into Dan’s lap, curling up on top of his crossed legs. Surprised and more than slightly pleased about this, Dan strokes the now sleeping animal absentmindedly with one hand as he googles ‘what to do with abandoned dog’ on his phone with the other. However, all the articles that come up, and he reads a fair few, all seem to be centred around the idea that the reader has just found a dog walking around, hence making it possible that the dog has run away. In his situation, Dan is absolutely certain for numerous reasons that this is not the case. A man pulling up in his car with a dog tied up in a bag and then dropping it in a river is hardly accidental.

 

The option of just keeping him is seeming more and more viable to him as the minutes pass. He hasn’t really considered getting a dog for his home before now, but it’s a perfect idea now that he thinks about it. A perpetually lonely soul who lives in a small bungalow in a quiet neighborhood and works from home with a surprisingly well paid career in website design, Dan’s always feels like his environment is too calm, too quiet. He may blast music from his Spotify playlist while working, but the absence of another living presence in a home is the loudest form of silence. It’s the kind of silence that encompasses, that fills every room to the brim with a faintly uneasy feeling that he just can’t shake. It seems that after taking Guy to the vet to check for illness and/or a microchip, he can just hold on to him. 

 

A name flashes across the top of his phone screen accompanied by a message. 

 

_ Phil: hi _

 

Dan realises that, wait, this is kind of perfect. Phil is a dog owner and should be able to at least advise him where to get some food should he choose to keep Guy. 

 

_ Dan: hi! _

 

He overthinks his use of an exclamation mark for a good minute, but sends a follow-up text nonetheless. 

 

_ Dan: you would not believe the afternoon i have had _

 

_ Phil: even more eventful than ur encounter w/ marius?!?! _

 

_ Dan: i know it’s hard to believe but yeah _

 

Dan taps the little icon in the corner of the screen to bring up his camera and angles the phone so that Guy and his lap are in shot. Snapping a picture of the undeniably cute scene, he clicks send.

 

_ Dan: [image attached] _

 

_ Dan: so i may have saved a puppy  _

 

_ Phil: wtf _

 

_ Phil: how did u ‘save a puppy’?? _

 

_ Dan: some guy threw him in a river in a bag. i thought that was more of a rumour kinda thing but people actually do that? _

 

_ Phil: what?! someone tried to kill that little ball of fluff?! _

 

_ Dan: i know, right?? why would you want to kill a puppy what the fuck _

 

_ Dan: so idk what to do with this dog. I want to keep him- it isn’t like he’s a stray, someone legit tried to kill him _

 

Dan realises that he has lapsed into ‘text-speak’ despite trying not to, but doesn’t care too much. When did an ‘idk’ ever hurt anyone, anyway?

 

_ Phil: idk man do u live alone? _

 

_ Dan: yeah why? _

 

_ Phil: probs not such a good idea to leave a puppy alone while ur at work, is all _

 

_ Phil: you’d be surprised at just how much a dog can destroy in under an hour. _

 

_ Dan: oh no i work from home.  _

 

_ Phil: rlly? same haha. I’m a writer hbu? _

 

_ Dan: website designer haha _

 

_ Dan: graphic design is my passion. _

 

_ Phil: you have a tumblr? noice! _

 

_ Phil: unless you saw that on facebook _

 

_ Dan: no ew _

 

_ Dan: danisnotonfire.tumblr.com :)) _

 

_ Phil: ok 1 sec _

 

He absentmindedly pets Guy while waiting for Phil to return, and the dog lets out a contented huff as he sleeps. Dan can already feel himself getting attached. Guy’s stomach rumbles loudly, and he appears to have managed to wake himself up with the noise as he climbs out of Dan’s lap and stands up, looking expectantly at him. 

 

_ Phil: wow for a website designer your theme is awful. _

 

_ Phil: wow that sounded so rude yikes _

 

_ Dan: i’m a proud shitposter it comes with the blog dw about it. _

 

_ Dan: also the pupper is hungry and idk what to feed him?? help _

 

_ Phil: well he looks about 4 months so he shouldn’t have the kinda food marius does otherwise I’d come over with some. ik it’s dark but it’s only 5:10 + the pet shop on standale st is open until 6.  _

 

_ Dan: but what do I do with the dog when I’m getting it? _

 

_ Phil: how big is ur car boot? _

 

_ Dan: pretty big? I have a far larger car than I need on my own  _

 

_ Dan: I have a “Volkswagen Passat Estate” _

 

_ Dan: black like my soul _

 

_ Phil: i’d never be able to have a black car- I’m so bad at scratching vehicles I s2g _

 

_ Phil: hence my car is silver.  _

 

_ Dan: if you’re anywhere near as destructive as that dog of yours then that’s probably for the best.  _

 

_ Phil: i’d like to deny that but the sheer amount of crockery that i’ve smashed says otherwise haha _

 

_ Phil: anyway shouldn’t you go get food for ur dog _

 

_ Dan: how did i manage to gain a dog in the course of a day oml _

 

_ Phil: off you pop _

 

_ Dan: ‘off you pop’?? sorry i didn’t realise i was talking to the literal queen of england _

 

_ Phil: pip pip my old chum, let’s doddle off! _

 

_ Dan: i’ve known you less than a day and i already hate u _

 

_ Phil: hate you too bae xoxo _

 

_ Dan: call me bae again and i will not hesitate to eviscerate you _

 

_ Phil: okay… _

 

_ Phil: bae _

 

_ Dan: literally b y e _

 

_ Dan: actually bye though because i need to go get food for le pupper _

 

_ Phil: u judge me for saying bae and then you say ‘le pupper’ _

 

_ Phil: bye though :)) _

 

Smiling at the interaction that has lasted a good twenty minutes without him noticing as the time passes, Dan stands up. Guy has been lying next to him expectantly since waking up, and jumps to his little feet. Dan leans down and scoops him up in his arms, and Guy squirms a little now that he’s less tired and no longer in shock. “C’mon little guy we need to get you some food,” he says in what is hopefully a placating tone. It works a little, as Guy calms down a minute amount, wriggling but with less vigour. Somehow managing to both open his door and lock it after himself one-handed, Dan gets to his car and unlocks it with a click of the red button on his keys. 

 

He rarely uses his boot; his groceries and other purchases generally fit on the back three seats, so when he gets to it it takes a moment for him to remember how it opens. Once he’s found the appropriate handle, he pulls the door open and places Guy gently on the floor inside. “Sit?” he says hopefully, a feeble command that the dog ignores, sniffing around the sides of the boot. Taking the opportunity while it’s still there, he closes the door. As he gets into his own seat, he hears a soft whimpering from the back of the car. Feeling awful but knowing from his meagre experience driving with Colin in the car that he needs to ignore the sound, Dan pulls out of his driveway. 

 

In his own home, though it hardly feels as such, Phil sits in the living room with Marius sprawled across his lap, the massive labradoodle’s legs hanging off both sides as he’s hardly a ‘lap dog’. Despite the fight with Ellie, Phil actually feels better than he has in months. He has no idea where Ellie is, as she tends to disappear in the time it takes for him to walk Marius in the aftermath of one of their arguments, often not returning until the following morning. It occurs to Phil that perhaps that should worry him, but he supposes that she’s likely to be with one of her friends, probably drunk and/or clubbing, he doesn’t know. 

  
It’s a while later when he sinks into the dip in the couch and pulls at his duvet until it covers him, and there’s a dog numbing his legs with its weight by the time he falls asleep.


End file.
